Coreless
by KennyMcCormick69
Summary: Kenny McCormick smokes, does drugs, drinks, parties, and gets laid by a different girl a couple times a week. He's the manwhore and the back-up friend. That's it. He wants someone to care. But no one even asks what's wrong. K2
1. Fishing Trip

"Hey Stan, I'm being forced to go fishing with my dad tonight. It's gonna suck ass, so I was wondering if you wanted to come." Kyle asked the raven-haired boy standing next to him at the bus stop.

"Sorry, dude. I have a date with Wendy tonight."

Kyle rolled his green eyes. "Again?"

"Yeah, so what?" Stan narrowed his icy blue eyes.

"Whatever."

"Ay! You never invited me!" The fat boy yelled angrily.

"Why the hell would I invite you, fatass?" The Jew yelled back, beginning their every morning conflict.

"Fine! You stupid Jew!" Eric spat.

A few minutes passed in silence. "Ken, you wanna come?" I looked up at emerald eyes looking at me. Of course he would choose me as a last resort. I was just the back-up friend. I knew he didn't really want me to come, but I agreed anyway.

I shrugged. "Sure, I guess."

The school day passed pretty quickly, and I skipped 3rd period to go out and have a smoke. I was gone from class so much anyway, the teachers usually didn't notice my absence. No one noticed Kenny McCormick being gone. My lighter flickered in the cold air as I lit my cigarette.

"I really wish you would stop smoking." Startled, I jumped and the lighter burnt my hand.

"Shit!" I murmured blowing on my pain ridden hand. I totally forgot someone was there and glanced to my side to see Kyle standing there with that one expression he always uses to get you to feel guilty. And for some reason it works every time. It pisses me off.

He crossed his arms. "You're killing yourself."

"What the hell are you doing here?" I hissed sounding harsher then I wanted.

"I saw you sneak out so I followed you."

"Like a stalker?" I raised my eyebrows and took a drag of my cigarette. His long fingers grabbed the death stick from my hand and threw it on the ground into the snow. "What the fuck dude? That was my last one!"

"Why do these things? You're ruining your life Kenny." His green eyes looked sad. Which made me angrier.

I laughed. "Like my life isn't fucked up already? Really Broflovski, why do you care about what I do? You never have." I looked at the ground and immediately regretted saying that.

"What are you talking about Kenny? I've always cared about you." The Jew's eyebrow's creased sadly.

"Whatever. Later." I said walking towards the direction of my house.

"Kenny," he called after me. But I didn't listen. And it felt good. For once I was the one who didn't listen to someone.

I heard a honk outside. I ignored it, some stupid driver of South Park I assumed. It honked again. Sighing, I put down my beer and went to the door. Outside was Kyle's dad, Gerald, in the driver's seat of their car. The fishing trip. I totally forgot about it. I was surprised Kyle still wanted me to come after our squabble at school. _Whatever, _I thought and got on my dirty, ragged tennis shoes. It was better than here.

I got into the back of the car next to Ike. He was growing into a man himself. He was thirteen, and already a sophomore. Since he was a genius and all. He didn't even notice me; he just stared out the window. Mr. Broflovski drove off in the direction of the lake and no one said a word until we got there. And the thing said was, that we were there.

"Here we are," Gerald said putting the car in park and turning it off. Everyone got out and went to the back of the car.

"Here Kenny," Kyle said handing me a pole. He got his own and walked to the opposite side of the lake his family was. I followed behind him. Kyle cast his line into the water and started reeling in, slowly. I tried so myself but kept getting caught in the moss. This is because I never fish, my dad took me a couple times but I was never any good at it.

"God damnit," I muttered, " I suck at this."

"It's alright, here, you're not holding it right." Kyle put his hands on mine and showed me how to correctly cast the line. Once it was far in the water, he took his hands off and smiled. "There you go." The red head went back to his own fishing. I started reeling, slowly, but was still shocked from Kyle's way of showing me how to fish. But it wasn't awkward at all; it sent chills down my spine.

I shook my head angrily. _Fag_, I told Kyle and myself in my head.

**Er, I'm done with the first chapter! It was really short and kind of sucked, but oh well. Please review and I'll be making more chapters soon. :)**


	2. Haunting Flashbacks

Our gang has barely changed over the years. Stan's still the jock that's obsessed with Wendy. Cartman's still the fat-ass that's the most horrible person I have ever met. I, Kenny, still have a fucked up life and would be better off dead. And I do die. I just always come back, even sometimes when I don't want to.

Kyle is…the same Kyle he's always been. The smart Jew that despises Cartman. The only one of us who always has good intentions. Who always at least tries to do the right thing.

As for relationships, Stan and Wendy are still a joke. They've gotten together and broken up so many times, I lost count a long time ago. Wendy cheated on Stan with Cartman. Yes, you heard me right, Eric Cartman. Me and Kyle found them making out once (I almost puked it was so disturbing) and we tried to tell Stan, but of course you can guess he denied it. Then Wendy admitted to Stan what she did, but had assured him she'd broken it off with Eric. Stan, still in denial, kept his relationship going with Wendy. It's quite depressing. Stan could get any girl he wanted, yet he still stays with a whore.

I guess I shouldn't be one to talk about dating whores.

Kyle and Bebe went out for awhile in 8th grade. Kyle hasn't been in many relationships after that, nothing serious to say the least. He's never seemed that interested in girls. He never talks about them.

Me, I've been in nothing serious. I've dated a few girls, sure, but just so I could get laid. I've never had a real girlfriend. If people don't know my name, they knew me as South Park's manwhore. My parents knew this, but they were too drunk to care. I can't remember the last time they were sober. It's worse than it's ever been. We're poorer and mom and dad eat pop-tarts every now and then, but since they've been spending more and more on booze, I have to wait until school to get a free meal. Five meals a week. My brother Kevin got the hell out of here the second he turned 18. He never graduated, well that's because he never went to school. He told me he was leaving one night; one long miserable night, and I never saw him again. Maybe he's dead, who knows? I could have gone with him and escaped this horrible, horrible, life.

I heard a knock on my door and said a casual "Come in". Kevin slipped into my small room quietly. He was wearing a backpack with all his few belongings in it.

I sat upright in my bed and stared at the floor. "What do you want?" I asked with no emotion in my voice.

My older brother sat next to me on the bed. We sat in silence for awhile, and finally he asked, "I want you to come with me."

I looked at him surprised. "What?"

"Come with me," he repeated. "I know you're pissed about me leaving you alone here, but I don't want to leave you. If you come with me, we can get away from all this. I can't leave you home with them."

I shook my head and my dirty-blonde hair fell in front of my face. "And what are you going to do, huh? You don't have money; you don't have a place to go. You leave and what then? Live on the street begging for change?"

His smirk crinkled his brown eyes. "Living in a shack that could tumble down any minute with alcoholic parents and the only meal is free lunches at school? That's not ideal either."

"Well, we survived for this long, didn't we?"

"And I do have it planned out. I've got this friend in Kansas that said we could stay with him until we find a place to live." Kevin began explaining his "plan" but I interrupted him.

"How the hell do you expect to pay for someplace to live?" I snapped.

My brunette brother grinned and pulled a wad of money out of his pocked. He straightened the bills out and handed them to me. My eyes widened. I was holding a stack of hundred dollar bills. "How the fuck did you get this kind of cash?" I asked bewildered. "Did you rob a bank?"

He laughed. "No, it's from work. It's somewhere in the thousands."

I rolled my eyes. Leave it to Kevin McCormick to make money and not know how to count it. I raised an eyebrow. "You worked at McDonald's."

"Yeah, but I also worked graveyard at Wal-Mart. I've had two jobs since I was fourteen and I never spent any of it. It adds up. So you know, we can get by for awhile."

I gave the money back to him. "Kevin, I don't know."

"Kenny, I just don't want you here. You will never have a life here."

"As if we'll have a life in Kansas with a couple thousand bucks? I can't leave my friends." I avoided eye contact with him and looked back at the floor.

He laughed. "Friends? I know they're not your friends. They treat you like shit. I've seen it. They don't even talk to you!"

I didn't say anything. I couldn't argue with that. "Mom? Dad?"

Kevin laughed again. "They're most of the reason we need to get out of here! They'll be too drunk to even notice we're gone."

"They'll notice eventually."

"So what? Like they'll care. I'm sorry Kenny, but you have to stop kidding yourself. No one cares about me or you. Everyone hates our family. Your so called friends don't like you, mom and dad don't like you, your teachers, your classmates, and everyone else who's ever heard of you doesn't give one shit about you. No one has ever said I love you. No one has ever said they cared. Not one person has ever bothered to ask what's wrong. Don't you get it Kenneth McCormick? No one cares! So why do you want to stay here? We can start a new life, Ken."

Warm tears stained my eyes. "Get out." I said angrily as I pointed a scrawny finger to the door.

"You can't deny the truth." Kevin's voice was now soft and his eyes were sad.

"Get the fuck out of here." I regretted it the minute I said that, but I didn't take it back.

Kevin nodded his head and opened the door. "Okay Kenny, just promise me you'll think about what I said."

My finger still pointed towards the door but my head was down so he couldn't see my incoming tears that I was trying to blink back. "Leave," I repeated.

"But I care for you. Just remember that. Here's my phone number." He handed me a piece of paper but I didn't take it so he set it on my bed next to me. Since when did he have a phone? Kevin got down on his knees and titled my chin so I had to look at him. My tears were streaming now; they refused to hold back any longer. "I'll always be there for you. If you ever need anything, just call me. If anything happens, call me. Promise."

I nodded weakly. "Will I ever see you again?"

He shrugged. "Probably not." My brother never lied. "Goodbye Kenny." I was grasped in a hug for the last time. And before I knew it, he was gone.

I squeezed my eyes and tried to get the agonizing flashback out of my head. I could have gone with him and escaped all this but I didn't because he told me the truth. I still had the phone number, sitting on my nightstand in the same place for four years. Four years since the one family member that wasn't messed up in the head left me alone. But I couldn't blame him, I made the choice. I was stuck here for god knows how long.

I put my face in my pillow and sobbed uncontrollably. Not particularly because I still missed Kevin and the face that he was gone forever, but that everything he said was true. Every word. He was right about everything. What he said hurt me so much but I couldn't deny the truth.

Those three words had gotten to me the most though; I couldn't stop replaying them in my head, even after all these years.

_No one cares._

**Aw, sad chapter. :( It'll get happier soon, though, I promise. This one is longer than the first chapter, and they'll probably keep getting a little longer. Hope you like it. Please review! Will be updating again soon.**


	3. Free booze? I'm in!

"Okay assholes," Craig Tucker said as he jumped onto the teacher's desk when she left to go get something. "My parents left for the weekend and since there's only one month left of this shit-hole, I'm having a party. At my house, Saturday, midnight." No one said anything until he added, "There's gonna be free booze!" That got everyone's attention. The class cheered before we realized that we were still in class. "Seniors of South Park and North Park only!" Everyone booed when Craig mentioned North Park. He rolled his eyes and flipped everyone off. "Anyone younger will be kicked out." Craig jumped off the teacher's desk and sat down in his own. Right on time, too. The teacher came in right after.

Class continued with some boring shit that I had no idea was about. She assigned some homework, too. But I was too excited about the party. I hadn't been to a party for what, two months? Free booze and hot girls. My idea of a great time. I went to my locker to retrieve books for my next few classes and overheard Stan and Kyle talking.

"Are you going to Craig's party?" Kyle asked his super best friend.

Stan shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe. It is probably the last party we'll go to as high schoolers. Are you going?"

"Probably not. I'm just really into that stuff anymore. What about you Kenny?" I swung around to see Kyle talking to me.

I frowned at the disappointment that Kyle wasn't coming. I mean, I didn't care if he came I just kind of wanted our whole gang to be there for one last party. Then I remembered Kyle was looking at me and I changed my expression to a smirk. "Do you really have to ask?"

He smiled. "I guess not. What's wrong?" My red-headed friend asked.

I creased my eyebrows. "Nothing, why?"

"You just looked sad for a minute." His green eyes were intent and focused on my face.

"Well, I'm fine." I was still taken aback. Someone actually asked me what's wrong. And I didn't even tell them. When I walked away I whispered so no one could hear me. "Everything's wrong." In a way I kind of wished he heard me.

Since it was the last party of the school year, I decided to at least clean up. And since we were so broke, we didn't have running water so therefore I had to use someone else's shower. Trust me, I hate it. It feels like I'm mooching off people more fortunate than me. That's why I try never to ask for anything, but sometimes it just comes to that. What the fuck, they're my friends. They've got money. I should be able to get a little help once in awhile, right?

I debated who's house to go to. Cartman? Definitely not. I don't even consider him; he wouldn't let me shower at his place because I'd get my "poor" germs everywhere. Stan? Naw, he's probably fucking Wendy's brains out so she'll stay with him. Butters? No, he'll be too scared to let me shower at his place because he'll get grounded. Kyle? He's probably my only other option, but shit, he's working until 10. Well, Butters it is then. He's too innocent and gullible not to let me shower.

I walked to other side of town, the middle-class part, where I deeply wished I could afford to have a decent life. When I got to Butter's house I went to the backyard where his room was and yelled, "BUTTERS!" A few seconds later his window open. He looked around and finally saw me.

"Kenny? Oh golly, Ken, you shouldn't yell like that 'cause well, my parents will be home soon and they'll be awful sore if they heard you yellin' in the backyard."

I ignored him and yelled, "I need to use your shower!" I didn't ask for things. I wasn't raised to be polite.

"Well gee, Kenny. I'd love to help you but my parents will be home soon and—"

"Then let me come in and take it really fast!" I interrupted.

"Well, alright, I suppose."

I rolled my eyes and walked to the backdoor that he opened for me. He led me upstairs to the bathroom. "Hurry up, please. My parents—"

"Yeah, yeah." I interrupted again and locked the bathroom. I took off my parka and clothes and got into a hot shower. Ah, it felt good. It's been weeks since I've bathed. I felt bad for people who were around me, I bet I smelled awful. I stayed in there for what, ten minutes, enjoying the heated water before a knock on the door and an impatient Butters told me to hurry up. I sighed and turned off the water and got out. I frowned when I put on my dirty and ragged clothes. I'd run home quick and put on a clean pair of clothes before the party.

I rubbed the steam covering the mirror to reveal my now clean face. I tried to comb my honey blonde hair with my fingers but I kept getting stuck in snarls and gave up. I actually haven't looked at myself in the mirror for a long time. I didn't want to—I was too ashamed of myself to see the person I'd become. My life didn't used to be this bad. I used to be pretty good in school, straight B's with a few C's. In eighth grade that all changed. After Kevin left my parents were drinking worse than ever. Since they bought so much booze we lost more and more money and went broke. Not poor, broke. We have a tiny bit of money, sure. But not even close to live a decent life. I went into depression after Kevin left since our family was falling apart. Our family was never really together but it wasn't this bad.

One day one of a sophomore invited me to a party. Since I thought nothing could get any worse, I went. I drank and drank until I passed out. Then I woke up in some random room with some girl from North Park that I apparently lost my virginity too. I didn't even know her name. But I learned that drinking took away some of the pain. Later I discovered drugs. This took away even more of the pain. My grades went down the drain and I didn't even try in school, just so much that I didn't get held back a grade. I'm going to graduate, but just barely. When I didn't drink or sniff cocaine, I smoked and had sex with random sluts. But it never took away the pain fully. It still doesn't but it helps so I still do it. I don't want to do these things but it's an addiction. It's destroyed my life but I can't stop trying to take the pain away. There's no one to comfort me. I've never been in love and no one's ever been in love with me. Love is something I've never felt and probably never will. After I became a manwhore, drug addict, alcoholic, and a smoker, my friends abandoned me Sure, they'll tolerate me when I'm around, but they don't think of me as a friend anymore. No one in town wanted or wants anything to do with me. Except Kyle. He's the only person in my life that doesn't hate me. Even Stan and Cartman try to avoid me. It hurts but I don't blame them. I don't want to be around me either.

Sometimes I think I'd be better off dead. I laughed silently. That thought always makes me crack up. I do die and I come back. That's the thing though, I can't stay dead. So suicide would definitely be a no-brainer.

"Oh my gosh Kenny! My parents will be home any minute!" Butters voice came from outside the bathroom. I sighed and walked out.

I smiled and the frantic blonde boy trying to shoo me away. "Thanks a lot Butters. I can assume you're not going to the party?"

His light blue eyes got wide. "Oh gosh no. I would never go to something like that. B-but Kyle said he was going."

I raised his eyebrows. "Is he?"

"Yeah, I heard him and Stan talking about it. Kyle said he was going to go because he didn't want you to do something else you'll regret." Butters bit his lip.

I clenched my jaw. "Really? Did he say anything else?"

"No, that's all I heard. I feel really bad for ease-dropping. And then telling you. I'm an awful person."

I rolled my eyes. "No you're not Butters." I ran downstairs and opened the back door. "Thanks again Butters!" I ran out of the house and into the cold air before he had a chance to respond. I looked at my watch, well not my watch technically, I found it in a trash can and it worked, so I took it. It was ten-thirty. The hell with nice clothes, I didn't want to go home. And I was enraged by Kyle. Who the hell did he think he was? He's not my fucking mom that needs to stalk me. I punched a street light in frustration and winced in pain when my knuckle came in contact with my hand. But I didn't care. I kept punching until blood stained the snow. I imagined each punch was at someone's face. Kevin, for leaving me. Dad, for being an alcoholic asshole. Mom, for being a drunk bitch. Everyone else that's came into my life and left. I finally stopped when my hands were coated in blood and dropped to the ground putting my shaking hands to my face and sobbing. This wasn't smart, because I just showered and now I was covered in blood. But I didn't care. I curled up in a ball on the sidewalk in the freezing snow and cried. Why did I deserve a life so crappy? What did I do to have a life so horrible? All I could think was why, why, w—.

"Kenny?" I looked up to see emerald eyes staring at me. "Holy shit Kenny! What'd you do! You're bleeding!" Kyle got on his knees and looked at my hands. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" He grasped my frozen body in his arms. I wrapped my arms around him too. For some reason I felt warm and comforted in his arms. It was a long time before he spoke. "Kenny, what's wrong? Why'd you do this?" His eyes traveled to my hands.

I just shook my head. "Come on, Kenny. Let's get you cleaned up." Kyle stood up and held out his hand. I grabbed it and he pulled my shaking body from the snow. We walked in silence to his house. Once there he led me inside and to his room. "One sec, I'm gonna go get a first aid kit." He left me sitting on his bed to go get the first aid kit. I looked out his window into the dark, cloudy night. I can't believe he saw me like that…no one was suppose to see me crumble like that. Everyone in town thought I had no emotions. No one has ever seen me cry. Or show pain, even though that's all I felt.

"Okay, I got the First Aid Kit," Kyle came in with a case of medical stuff. He wiped off the blood from my hands and said, "Shit, Ken. You cut your knuckles open." My red-haired friend got a needle and thread. "This is going to hurt a bit," he said when he started stitching the deep cut. I winced slightly but tried my best not to move. After he was done he wrapped my hands in bandages and nodded. "There you go." I was still shivering for lying in the snow that long and he must have noticed because he went to the closet and pulled out a shirt and a pair of jeans. Kyle handed them to me. "Here, you can wear my clothes until yours dry off. I nodded and went to the bathroom to change.

He gave me dark blue jeans and a grey t-shirt. They fit pretty well except they were a bit loose due to me being scrawny because I never eat. I went back to Kyle's room to see him putting everything back in the kit. I sat on the bed and so did he. I avoided eye contact but I could feel him staring at me. Finally he said, "Please talk to me."

I looked at his big green eyes. "I don't have anything to talk about."

"Yes you do. If everything's wrong, talk to me about it. I'm here Kenny. I'll listen."

My eyes widened. "Y-you heard me?"

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, I did. Kenny, your whispers aren't as quiet as you intend them to be."

"Obviously not." I said embarrassed but somehow glad he heard me.

"So talk to me." Kyle stated.

"I'm late for the party." I said ignoring him.

He shook his head and red curls fell on his face. "Not until you tell me what's up."

I stood up. "What the hell is this? Some emo convention? Everything's fine, I'm gonna go to Craig's house now."

Kyle stood up too so he was eye level with me. I was a few inches taller than him, but a lot bonier. "You were punching a street light and you cut your knuckles open. That's not like a random spaz attack. You were obviously trying to let some anger out. You want to talk to someone, I know you do. You act like the party guy and oh, everything's fine. But I can see right through you Kenny. You are aching for someone to care and when someone finally does, you push them away. If I had to name the five things I hate about you that would be on top. So fine, go to your party. Get drunk and get screwed by a whore."

"Okay, I will," I said angrily heading for the door. I looked back at him. "Well? Aren't you going to come and make sure I don't do something I might regret?"

His face looked confused. "What?"

I could feel my face redden. "You know what! Butters told me what you said to Stan. So you need to babysit me like I can't take care of myself?"

Kyle's face looked sad. "Kenny, I didn't mean it like that."

"You damn well did." My hands clenched into fists and I unclenched them because fuck that hurt.

"I'm your friend, Ken. Friends watch out for each other." He put a hand on my shoulder but I shrugged it off.

"Thanks for helping me out, dude. Yeah, so, bye." I walked through the threshold of the door and through the hallway.

"Kenny." I turned around. "I can save you." I opened my mouth to say something but no words came out. "But I can't save you from yourself. You have to do that on your own."

I froze where I was. I could barely comprehend what Kyle said but for some reason I nodded my head. "Okay Kyle."

**Yay! Another chapter done! I'll probably be making a chapter a day so expect one tomorrow. Thank you for all the reviews! :) **


	4. Maybe One Last Time

I rang Craig's doorbell. Why the fuck did I ring the doorbell, I don't know. The music was so loud I could barely hear myself think. Just the volume I like it. So why the hell am I still standing here waiting for someone to open the door? I shake my head and cuss at myself for being such a dumbass and walk in.

There was more smoke than air, more booze than people, and music loud enough to shatter your eardrums. Now this was my idea of a party. "Kenny, my man! You made it buddy!" Craig yelled over the riot of music and people and put his arm around my shoulders. He smiled; damn that kid needed braces. Like Cartman once said, he had fucked up teeth. They were worse than mine.

I smiled back politely at drunk Craig and practically screamed, "Wouldn't miss it!"

"Oh, dude. What the fuck did you do to your hands? Holy shit!" he laughed, "well have a beer and enjoy the party you crazy piece of shit!" Craig laughed some more and walked off.

I dodged person by person and finally reached the alcohol. I took a cup and poured some beer in it from the keg. The poison slipping down my throat felt great. I looked through the crowd and searched to see anyone I knew. I saw some hot asses that I might want for later but that could wait until I was drunk. After checking out girls I scanned the crowd again and saw Stan and walked over to him. Well, walk is an understatement. Trudge is more like it. I put my hand on his shoulder and screamed, "Hey man, you came."

He turned around and smiled. Stan was a little taller than me, and definitely a lot bulkier. He had a six pack and I had ribs. "Yeah, I did."

"Is Wendy here?" I asked jokingly as to refer to him never do anything she didn't "approve" of. Because she was in control of his life.

"No, she's sick." He said seriously, Stan obviously didn't get the joke.

"And she let you come?" I raised my eyebrows.

He tapped his fingers on the side of his cup nervously. "Well, I didn't exactly tell her…" he trailed off and looked at me like he told me his deepest, darkest secret and thought I was going to tell the whole world. It probably was actually his deepest darkest secret and he didn't care about the whole world find out, he cared about Wendy finding out. Stan was terrified of her. Maybe she beat him or something, I don't know. I just laughed in response and we started talking. I wanted to rebuild my friendship with Stan. When my life went down the drain I lost my friends. And I wanted them back. After Stan was done babbling on about sports and Wendy and me pretending I cared about those two things, we went back to doing our own thing.

Again trudging through the seniors of South and North Park I spotted a lump of fat. "Cartman?" I poked Eric in the back and he swung around almost knocking some people over.

"Oh, hi Kenny." He blushed like he was embarrassed to be here and even more so for me to see him here.

"I didn't know you liked to get your rockstar on."

He shrugged. "It's better than being at home when my mom just got a new boyfriend."

I smirked. "So you don't wanna hear your mommy giving her herpes to someone else?" I asked just to be a jackass.

Cartman creased his brown eyebrows. "You're one to talk, you poor piece of crap! You probably have every STD there is slut!"

"Whoa now, no need to get feisty. I think you're going to grow up to be a cougar like your mom." I winked jokingly. He apparently didn't get it because his face reddened. "I'd rather be a slut than a virgin!" I laughed and walked off.

"Aye! You better apologize asswipe!" I could hear Cartman's loud voice from behind me.

"McCormick!" I heard someone yell and looked around. I searched above some heads and saw Craig waving me over.

"What's up?" I yelled when I finally got over to him.

He held up some green in a bag. "Courtesy of North Park." Craig grinned and waved the pot in my face. "You know you want it." Out of instinct I would have grabbed the bag out of his hand and gotten so high I could no longer feel, but I held back. _I can save you. _Repeating Kyle's words in my head, _But I can't save you from yourself. You have to do that on your own. _As corny and faggy as it sounds, I wanted to be saved. From this deep, black fiery hole on the path to my own destruction. How does that even make sense anyway? Save myself from myself? What the fuck does that even mean? And isn't saving myself the same thing as someone else saving me? Ugh, I'm thinking too hard. And I won't even have to do this again. Last party of the year. I might as well celebrate, right? Maybe just this one last time…

Everything was kind of a blur after that. I went to the Land of Boobs again like when I was a kid snorting cat piss, and then I finally came back into reality. I met some girls and became Mr. Suave for awhile before we went into a bedroom. Her name was Chelsea, I think. Or was it Amanda? I don't know and I don't care, I just knew it was amazing sex. After that I got, or attempted, to get my clothes on. I went back into the party but couldn't even walk because I was too wasted and high. I collapsed on the floor in the middle of riot of drunk teenagers and everything went black.

"Everyone get the fuck out! Nuh-uh, Clyde, Tweek, Token! Don't try and sneak out! You're helping cleaning up!" I heard a voice yell.

"No, uh, dude I gotta get home." Another voice spoke.

"Yeah, GAH, me too. This is too much pressure!" That voice I could easily recognize.

"I'm too hung-over," I could recognize Token's deep voice.

Everyone said "Me too," in unison.

"Well too bad! I am too and my parents are coming home tonight so I need to get this shit picked up. They all grunted but I heard steps walking around the room and things being picked up. You didn't really want to mess with Craig; he was a year older than everyone in our class (so now he's 19) and a lot bulkier. He wasn't much of a jock but he sure worked out. He was about the size of Stan. I'd love to see a fight between the two of them someday. I've always wondered who'd win. I'd probably make my bet on Craig since he's a lot meaner and Stan is kind of a pussy sometimes. "You too, McCormick!" I moaned in pain when a shoe came in contact with my side. Craig was the only person who called me by my last name. Everyone called me Kenny, even though my real name was Kenneth. All the girls in my class called me Kenneth, and I have no idea why. Kenneth sounds gay. It was like everyone calling Butters "Butters" even though his real name was Leopold. But Leopold was gayer than Kenneth. I rolled over and winced when the lights burned my eyes. I looked around and saw I was no longer in a crowd of people but piles of garbage. I grasped my head in my hands.

"Oooowww," I moaned. My head felt like someone set in on fire. My whole body ached. I noticed my shirt was on backwards and inside out, I was missing a shoe, I was covered in toilet paper, and there was someone's bra on my leg. What the hell happened last night? These weren't even my clothes—oh yeah, I borrowed them from Kyle. I tried to stand up but fell back down. Craig held out his hand and I took it but he yanked me up so hard I fell flat on my face.

He rolled his dark brown eyes. "Get up McCormick and help."

"I don't wanna," I complained even though I was talking to the floor.

"Too bad. Friends have to help friends clean up after parties and you're my friend so get the fuck up!"

"But I'm not your friend. I fucking hate you Craig." Which was a lie, despite being childhood enemies, me and Craig became pretty good friends. But when it comes to cleaning up after a party with a hangover, you have no friends.

"Yeah, I hate you too." Token agreed with me.

"GAH! Me too." Tweek agreed.

"Aaaawww," Craig said in a sugar-sweet voice, "I hate you guys too!" He smiled and flipped everyone off and continued, "Now start helping or you're going to hate me more." Craig grabbed me by the back of my hair and lifted me up from the floor.

"Oww, ow, ooowww, fuck. Ouch Craig, that hurt!"

"Good." He tossed me a broom that hit my head. "Now help." I sighed and started sweeping the junkyard of a floor.

After a good ten minutes I finally asked, "Does anyone know where my shoe is?" Everyone shrugged.

"Is this it?" Clyde said pointing up to my shoe that was duct-taped to the ceiling.

"What the hell?" I said obviously confused. "Okay, now does anyone have a ladder?"

"Why is your shoe on the ceiling?" Tweek actually shook with anxiety and his eye twitched. Tweek was an okay kid, but damn he gets annoying.

"We'll get it later, now just hurry up asswipes!" Craig yelled. We all covered our ears and murmured "Ow". Craig's loud voice wasn't helping our hangovers. After a freaking hour we finally got the whole house cleaned up. We all checked everywhere to make sure there wasn't any evidence, which there wasn't so that meant we could go.

"Okay, you can all leave now." Craig said finally satisfied with his clean house. Everyone but me left since I was still trying to retrieve my shoe from the ceiling. After I got a chair I could finally reach it and ripped the duct-tape off.

"Alright Craig, great party. Later, I guess." I made my way to the door before he stopped me.

"Wait! I've got some leftover pot and I can't keep it here. Do you want it?" I eyed the bag for a minute. I promised myself last night was the last time I'd do drugs. But hell, I could sell it for money or something. So I took it.

"Sure. Thanks." I smiled and went outside. I was surprised—it was actually sunny out. A bright ball of light is something we barely see in South Park. The temperature was starting to gradually rise seeing as it was almost May. I didn't know what to do. It was Sunday and I just wanted to get the day over with so I could get food tomorrow. I was starving; my stomach growled in agreement. I hadn't eaten since Friday. I looked at my watch. Eleven-thirty. If it was this early, why the hell did Craig make us rush cleaning up? Anyway, I guess there wasn't anything to do except walk around town. Which is what I usually do on weekends. Aren't I just a social butterfly? Then I remembered I still had Kyle's clothes on, so I decided I'd go to his house. I rang the doorbell and Sheila answered.

"Oh, why hello Kenny!" She said in her loud cheerful voice, "What can I do for you?"

As if it wasn't obvious. Why else would I be here? "Is Kyle here?"

"Oh, I'm sorry Kenny. Kyle isn't home; he went out with some of his friends." Sheila stated sympathetically.

A cloud of disappointment washed over me. "Oh, okay. Thanks Mrs. Broflovski." I turned around and heard a door shut. There goes my day. I sighed and started walking towards Stork's Pond. We used to love that place when we were kids, it was our official hang-out spot. God I miss being a kid. Not a worry in the world. Except dying, of course. But that became more of causality than a worry.

God, my head hurt like a bitch. It felt like I'd been hit over the head with a jackhammer. When I finally reached Stark's Pond I went to a rock, took off my shoes and socks and put my feet in the water. Even though the air was warm, the water was not. It was like ice. I'd probably get frostbite but whatever. I laid back and let the sun warm my skin.

On the other side of the pond I saw Butters walking towards me. I waved and he waggled his fingers like a girl. Well, Butters is kind of a girl. He's bi anyway. He came out in seventh grade. In sixth grade he finally found out what bi-curious actually meant, and he was extremely embarrassed. But the next year he decided he did like guys, but he also liked girls. He thought everyone would be extremely surprised, but he thought wrong. We all knew he was gay since the day we met him. Oh, I'm sorry, "bisexual". Not gay. There's a hint of sarcasm in that. He's never had any interest in any female since that Raisins' girl. He's always been into guys despite being "bisexual". Anyway, currently he's dating that Bradley kid from the gay camp.

"Well, hi there Kenny. I wasn't expecting to see you here." He sat down by a rock next to me.

"Yeah, neither was I."

He giggled. "Your shirt's inside-out, Ken."

I smirked. I completely forgot about it. "I know. Partied too hard last night."

"Oh," Butters looked off into the distance. "Well, I need to get home or my parents will get mad."

I shook my head. "Why do you care about your parents getting mad all the time, Butters? You're officially an adult now. You don't have to listen to them anymore."

"I know that. It's just; well they're my parents Kenny and they're the boss of me." Butters tapped his knuckles together, his nervous habit that he's had since we were kids.

"No they're not. You're your own boss of your own life. You need to stop letting them take control of your life." I despised Butter's parents. They we're self-manipulating abusive control-freaks. He was terrified of them, and I was sick of the way they treated him. "Stand up for yourself Butters. You're a man now, not a kid."

"I gotta go," he said and walked off. I sighed in disgust. He was a puppy dog on a leash. He was always grounded even though he's officially an adult now. Butters is second oldest in our class, next to Craig. He's older than us but acts the youngest. You'd think he'd toughen out by now and stand up to his parents. But its Butters and he'll never toughen up. I wish just once he'd stand up for himself.

I took my feet out of the water. They were numb, but quickly warmed up on the hot rocks. After about ten minutes they were dry and I put on my socks with too many holes to count and my beat-up tennis shoes. I sighed and started walking towards my house. There wasn't anything else to do. Maybe I'd nap, since my head still felt like it was going to explode. Once I got to my hell hole of an I don't even know how it can be house, instead of the front door I used my window. It was a less likely chance of me encountering my parents. Since my window was shit, I could easily lift it up and slip through. My room was how it always was. Tiny, dirty, full of rats and other critters. I had an itty-bitty closet despite having no clothes, torn up orange curtains, ripped-up brown flooring, a little box of childhood toys, posters of swimsuit models around my room that I've always had, and to top it all off, a bed that's all springs and no mattress. Sometimes I think it's less comfortable than the floor. But I didn't complain. At least I wasn't homeless. I was close, but not quite. Ah, this was the life.

I plopped down on my spine-breaking bed and closed my eyes.

"Kenny! Wake up!" I rolled over and looked up at my red-haired mother. "One of your friends are here." She said in that southern-twang of hers. Friends? What friend of mine comes to my house? No one wants to come here, not even me.

I walked groggily to the front door. I rubbed my eyes. "Kyle? What do you want?" I asked sleepily.

"It's Butters…h-he's in the h-hospital Kenny." Kyle stuttered like he always does when he's nervous.

A shock of anxiety washed through me. "Jesus, is he okay?" I asked. "What happened?"

He shook his head and some of his red curls fell in front of his eyes. "I don't know."

"Well let's go." I said walking outside and closing the door behind me. And we took off running towards the one place I hate almost as much as I hated my home because of so many bad memories, Hells Pass Hospital.

**I'm sorry, I had total writer's block so it took awhile. Anyway, I hoped you enjoyed and I'll (hopefully) be writing more soon! Please review! :)**


	5. My Fault

After a couple minutes of breath-taking running, we made it to Hells Pass Hospital. The receptionist told us where Butters was and Kyle and I quickly dodged nurses and doctors and got to the elevator. Six stories up and twenty rooms left, sure enough there was Butters. Lying in a hospital bed hooked up to a bunch of wires. My heart stopped-it was horrible. Stan said I'd never understand how it felt to see a friend in that condition in the hospital. This was about me of course when I had a muscular terminal illness. I died for a whole year. I was in hell for a whole year; I thought for sure I was permanently dead. But I finally came back, and when I did no one seemed to notice. Kyle told me how Stan made such a big deal about me dying. Jesus, I wanted to see my friend before I died and he didn't even visit. Stan was just—he was a jackass. It's funny how everyone was so upset when I died for, well everyone thought for good, but when I came back I found I was replaced by someone else and they barely noticed my absence. God I hate my life.

Anyway, now I do know how it feels to have a friend in the hospital. It felt horrible. We entered Butters room and saw Stan, Cartman, and Bradley standing around his bed. No signs of his parents.

Butters grinned sheepishly, "H-hi guys." He tried to say and coughed afterwards. I stared at him in horror. He had black eyes—he looked like a raccoon, he had bruises all over his face, neck, and arms and several cuts.

"Jesus Christ Butters! What the hell happened to you?" Kyle asked wide-eyed.

"O-oh," the beat-up blonde boy stuttered, "I-I just got in a-a l-little a-accident, fellas. Nothin' t-to worry a-about."

"Nothing to worry about? Jesus Christ! It looks like someone took a sledgehammer to your face!" Kyle said still exasperated.

"W-well the doctor said I can go home in a little bit," Butters added.

"C-can I talk to you guys outside?" Bradley's soft voice spoke up through biting fingernails.

"Sure," Stan said and we all followed him outside Bradley's room.

Once the door closed, Bradley began to talk. "I know what really happened to Butters."

Kyle raised his eyebrows. "What?"

"It was his parents."

Our mouths all dropped open. Well except mine because I had my face hidden under my hood. "His parents, god damnit! I should have known!" Kyle said angrily.

"Wait, how do you know?" Stan asked.

"He told me." Bradley continued, "Butters told me that he stood up to his parents when they told him to do something and they did that to them." He gestured towards Butter's room. "He told his mom and dad off and they fucking beat him." Bradley shook his head and some of his frizzy blonde hairs fell in front of his face. His hands bawled into fists and his face got red with anger.

_Oh my fucking god. _I thought. _This is my fault._ My face froze. I told Butters at Stark's Pond to stand up to his parents, he went home right after. Then Kyle told me he was in the hospital. He listened to me and he got beat and sent to the hospital. "I go to bathroom," I murmured under my hood un-grammatically which was muffled and walked to the exit. I went downstairs and out the front doors. I walked to a bench away from most of the people, sat down, put my head and my hands, and cried. I just had to fuck someone else's life up, didn't I? I gave someone advice and they ended up in the hospital. What the hell was wrong with me? I couldn't do anything right. Now not only do I have to live with my own pain—but Butter's as well. Why can't I do something good for once? I got one of my friends sent to the hospital. God, I hate myself, I screamed angrily in my head.

I felt an arm slung over my shoulders and jumped back reflexively. "Dude, he's fine. Don't get so upset." Kyle said. _Oh shit, _I thought. Now Kyle must really think I'm a pussy since he's found me crying two times in one week. I quickly wiped the tears from my eyes and stared at my feet to avoid eye contact.

"It's my fault." I blubbered after a long silence.

"What do you mean?"

"I told Butters to stand up to his parents. I gave him advice to stand up to his parents and he got…he got beat. He got sent to the hospital and it's all my fucking fault!" I admitted shutting my eyes tightly.

After an awkward silence, Kyle finally spoke. "It's not your fault Kenny. It's not like you're the one who beat him."

"If I'd kept my damn mouth shut he wouldn't be here." I pulled the string on my hood to make it tighter so more of my face was hidden. I liked myself hidden. It gave me that feeling of security and protection. It made me feel like no one could see past me. No one could see who I really was: a mess, an abomination. They couldn't see the despair, anger, and anguish that are permanently set on my face. But being hidden made me feel lonely. Like I was lost at the bottom of the ocean.

_It was dark, cold, and frightening. I could breathe sometimes—but not enough, so I panicked. No one was there. No fish, plants, rocks, or seashells. It was me, the ocean floor, and water. It always felt like someone was there though, but it wasn't a good feeling. It felt like shadows of all happiness, love, joy, and everything I've always wanted but couldn't have were trapped inside the shadows. They loomed around me playfully, I tried to grab them sometimes, but they were nothing. My mind was just reminding me of what I've never had and never will. The human mind is evil like that; it plays tricks on you. The shadows were happy; the only thing I've ever wanted. I desperately wanted an Optimistic Shadow, is what I call them, to just grab the happiness so I could have just a few seconds of joy like any normal person should have most of the time. I always planned on catching an Optimistic Shadow, but I never thought of what I would do after that. I never planned on how to get the happiness out, how to feed the shadow to my own emotions. I was still standing in the bottom of the ocean; the shadows taunted me with laughter and love. Something I would give anything for, even though I don't have anything in the first place. I can stand on the bottom of the ocean; I can walk or even run. But I can't swim. Through the shadows and the darkness, I see dim light passing through the deep waters. I try to float to the top, but I can't. The human body is supposed to float, but I don't. I even try swimming. But I'm locked to the ground. I try jumping; I can jump like on land, but I rush back to the bottom leaving no hope to getting to the light. Time doesn't apply here. Nothing applies here, not even life. I try running, I run for miles. But nothing is here. It's like running on a treadmill; you run and run and run and run, but you're always in the same place. Nothing changes. The setting doesn't change. It's nothingness. A world that consumes your soul and traps you to wander aimlessly. You go all directions. You run, walk, jog, try to float, try to swim. But nothing happens. You move, sure, but nothing changes. No one is waiting for you at the top or at the edge of the ocean, everywhere you turn you're trapped in a place of no return. It's your worst nightmare—to be alone. And you travel around the ocean just to realize this is what your life's like._

My mind isn't tricking me. It's just showing me what my life really is—a vast ocean of emptiness.

Kyle never said anything after that, which I was thankful for. We couldn't go see Butters again because they wanted Butters to sleep. Kyle asked if I wanted to go to his house, and I agreed mainly because I needed to return his clothes. Thank god no one noticed they were Kyle's clothes. We got to his house about ten minutes later and went upstairs to his room. There were a pile of folded, clean clothes on the bed. He went over to him and started digging around until he found my oh-so-familiar orange parka, white t-shirt, and jeans. I took off my shirt and exchanged his shirt for mine.

"Holy shit Kenny…" he said suddenly.

I raised my eyebrows as I took my shirt and pulled it over my head. "What?" I asked when I realized this wasn't my shirt. My shirt had numerous holes, stains, and it was too small. This one was clean, almost new.

Before I could say this wasn't my shirt, he said, "You're…you're so skinny." He paused and then continued, staring at me, "You're ribs were showing." I directed my eyes away from him, embarrassed. I had forgotten that he hasn't seen me without a shirt since Kevin left, when the meals at home stopped, and I only ate free lunches at school. I was kind of scrawny before, but now I was all bone. I'm sure some people who didn't know better thought I was anorexic.

I just said in reply, "Dude…why were you looking at my chest anyway?" It's the only thing I could come up with before I quickly changed the subject. "Um…so this isn't my shirt."

"I know. It's mine." He said flatly, his intense green eyes still concentrating on me.

I flushed when I saw him still looking at me. "Why'd you give me yours? Where's mine?"

"I threw yours away. It was disgusting, so I just gave you one of mine." He cocked his head a bit, his voice still flat and emotionless.

Again I was humiliated; I hated it when people did things for me. It made me feel hopeless, weak, and defenseless. Which was completely true, but I didn't want to show it. I could take care of myself. I didn't need other's sympathy. But I deeply didn't want to argue with Kyle again, so I just accepted it. "Well…thanks." I mumbled and he nodded in response. I slipped on my parka and zipped it up. I went into the bathroom to change jeans. I tucked my head down to avoid seeing myself in the mirror. I saw myself once already; that was plenty enough. I'm too ashamed to look at myself. I went back to Kyle's room to see him folding away his own laundry, neatly tucking clothes in various drawers.

"You went to the party last night," he said, his back still to me.

"Yeah. How'd you know?" Although it was just a question to state the obvious.

"My clothes smell like beer."

"Oh…sorry dude."

He never said anything back to this, instead finishing up putting his clean clothes away. Once he was done, he got up and faced me. After an awkward silence he said out of nowhere, "Kenny, what's your favorite thing to do?"

I looked at him in surprise. Finally I answered, "Besides partying?"

Kyle nodded. "Besides partying," he repeated.

"Besides sex?"

"Besides sex," he repeated again.

"Drinking." I said.

Kyle rolled his eyes. "I think that kind of falls under the category of partying."

"Not necessarily."

"Well, pick something different then."

"I don't have anything else," I admitted. Which was true. I didn't like to do anything else besides get laid, high, or drunk.

"Your favorite thing to do as a kid then."

I thought for a moment. I tried to go back to my childhood days. Really, I liked to do anything as long as it was with my friends. I remember our failed band Moop. I played the drums. I loved the drums; I was actually really good at it. I kept playing for years and got better and better. I stopped when I was fifteen. I don't know why exactly, I just hit a point in my life I lost interest in everything. I was also a singer. Everyone said I had an amazing voice, especially in opera. But me just being me, I gave it up too.

I loved playing video games. But I know longer can afford even as much as a board game. I loved football. I wasn't too bad. Stan of course dominated everyone else being a jock and all, but I was pretty good at it. And I'm sure you've already guessed it: I stopped that too.

I loved my child memories. I was poor and I died a lot…but I was happy. But I also resented the memories because I knew I'd never have that feeling again. The one emotion I longed for. Just another thing the shadows taunted me with. I realized Kyle was still waiting for an answer, so I hurried up and said the first thing that came to mind; "Spending time with you."

_Did I really just say my favorite thing to do was spending time with Kyle?_

My eyes grew wide when I realized what I said. What was I, a fag? Definitely not. Then why did I just tell Kyle and my favorite thing to do in the whole wide world was spend time with him? Stupid, stupid, stupid I told myself in my head. "I should get home. I'll see you at school." I walked over to his door and prayed silently he wouldn't say anything.

"Okay Ken, see ya."

And I walked out on my favorite thing to do.

**Poor Butters! :(**

**Kenny, you're such a fag. :)**

**I'm so sorry about the wait! I've been terribly busy. Anyway, I hope to be writing more often. Hoped you enjoyed this chapter, and please review! :)**


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